


and now i understand (how much i took from you)

by lco123



Series: Wicked Little Town: An "Ezra is A" AU [3]
Category: Pretty Little Liars
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Ezra is A, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-11
Updated: 2017-04-15
Packaged: 2018-10-17 11:38:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,559
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10593255
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lco123/pseuds/lco123
Summary: These past two years have made it hard to think of ‘Ali’ and ‘real’ in the same sentence.Part 2 of my "Ezra is A" AU. Alison is home, which changes everything for Emily.





	1. November

**Author's Note:**

> And now we come to the Emison section of my 4b/5a "Ezra is A" AU. If you haven't read "when everything starts breaking down," this first chapter at least will still make sense, though subsequent chapters may be confusing. I would at least read the prologue, for clarity on Ezra's reveal and ultimate demise. Also, just a heads-up: I have no idea what my writing/posting schedule will be. 
> 
> Thanks for reading!

Ezra might be dead— _A_ might be dead—but the week that follows provides little comfort for Emily. Spencer is gone, shipped off to rehab at a time when they should all be together. Aria is a mess, of course. Hanna isn’t in much better shape than Emily herself; they’re both just trying to hold everything together. And Alison…

Ali isn’t home, they haven’t heard from her, but Emily can feel it coming; her looming presence is like a storm on the horizon. Or maybe it’s the sunshine after a long night of rain. Emily hasn’t decided yet. At first she tries to make up her mind about Alison’s imminent return, before realizing that she won’t really know how she feels until Ali is back. Not dragging Emily out of a barn for a kiss before disappearing again, not showing up in Spencer’s backyard with yet another cryptic clue, but actually back, for real. 

These past two years have made it hard to think of ‘Ali’ and ‘real’ in the same sentence. 

But then one day, remarkably, it _is_ real. Pam calls Emily in the middle of the school day, breathlessly explaining that Mrs. D. is on her way to Philadelphia. Alison contacted her, she’s ready to come home.

Emily hangs up the phone without saying goodbye and spends the next ten minutes tracking down Hanna, who’s standing in the courtyard with the world’s worst poker face.

“You heard,” Emily surmises.

“Yeah,” Hanna replies. Her skin looks especially pale. “This is actually happening.”

Emily nods, wordlessly taking Hanna’s hand as they sit together at a table. Lunch doesn’t start for another fifteen minutes, but Emily doesn’t particularly care right now. Hackett wouldn’t dare give them detention for skipping class on a day like today.

“I wish Spencer were here,” Hanna murmurs. “And Aria.”

“I know. Me too.” Emily breathes in shakily. “This is what we wanted, right?”

“Right,” Hanna echoes, but she doesn’t sound certain. They don’t say much for the next few minutes, and when Paige joins them a while later, asking what’s wrong, Emily doesn’t think twice before lying to her.

\--

Emily and Hanna consider camping out on the DiLaurentis porch after school, but Pam insists they come home first and give Alison and Mrs. D. some space. Emily picks at her dinner and can't focus at all on her homework. She somehow manages to wait until her mom leaves to run errands, and then Emily sneaks out and marches right over to the DiLaurentis house by herself.

There’s a single cop car out front but that’s the extent of it, which surprises Emily. Somehow when she pictured Alison’s return, the house was swarmed by police and detectives and maybe even the FBI. The yard would be swaddled in yellow tape: _Danger. Do Not Cross._ It was all deeply metaphorical in Emily’s head.

But instead, to Emily’s utter shock, Alison herself answers the door. Emily’s mouth drops open, every word she rehearsed completely leaving her in this moment, and Ali’s eyes immediately fill with tears. The beat seems to stretch on forever, Emily feeling completely immobilized, and then Ali is launching herself into Emily’s arms.

“It’s you,” Alison breathes wetly into Emily’s neck. “I was hoping it would be you.”

Emily does her best to swallow the gigantic lump in her throat, hugging Ali back fiercely. “I wanted to be right here when you came back,” she mumbles into Alison’s hair, which somehow still smells the same. “But I—”

“It’s fine,” Alison assures her, pulling out of the hug but still keeping an arm around Emily. “I’m so happy to see you.” She raises her other hand to Emily’s cheek, running her thumb over a tear Emily didn’t know she had shed, and it’s all _so much_ , right at once. Emily should have waited until Hanna could be a buffer, because she’s been around Ali for all of two seconds and already she doesn’t trust herself to not do something stupid.

(But how could she wait a second longer, when Alison was here? She’s not sure she physically could have.)

“Come in,” Ali insists, pulling Emily inside. Emily does as she’s told—she always has, where Ali’s concerned—and then Mrs. D. is bustling out of the kitchen with a tight smile on her face.

“Emily,” she says warmly, or as warmly as Mrs. D. ever sounds. “How wonderful to see you.”

“I’m sorry to barge in,” Emily apologizes. “I just—”

Mrs. D. raises a hand, cutting her off. “Nonsense. Of course you needed to see Alison.” Her gaze softens, and Emily can’t help but recall their conversation just a few weeks ago. _You loved her as much as I did. I wish that Ali could have returned those feelings. I couldn’t have asked for a better person to love her than you._

Emily nods, well aware that Alison is still clinging to her, and that she doesn’t really want her to let go. “Do you have to talk to the police still?” Emily asks Ali. “I noticed the cop car out front.”

Alison shakes her head. “That’s just for surveillance. They’re going to give me tonight, then tomorrow I have to answer their questions.”

“And your dad?”

Mrs. D. makes a displeased-sounding noise in the back of her throat. “I’m going to give you two some space,” she says curtly, her demeanor suddenly seeming a lot cooler. “Emily, please don’t stay too long. Alison needs her rest.”

“I won’t,” Emily assures her. Mrs. D. turns on her heal and heads back to the kitchen.

“Should I not have brought up your dad?” Emily asks quietly.

Alison shrugs. “Who knows what’s going on with them? Mom’s avoided talking about him, but he and Jason are heading here tomorrow, apparently. It didn’t take much to figure out my folks are splitting up.”

“I’m sorry,” Emily tells her.

“Don’t be,” Ali replies. “In the long run, it’s okay.” She snorts. “A lot worse has happened to me.”

“Ali,” Emily whispers, because she can’t think of anything else to say. It’s like there are too many questions in her head, and now none of them can find a way out.

“Emily,” Alison says back. There’s so much tenderness in her voice that it makes the hairs on the back of Emily’s neck stand up, and she actually shivers. Which Ali picks up on, of course, and she puts a hand on each of Emily’s shoulders, rubbing gently.

The Alison of Emily’s dreams was always mysterious and ghost-like, a sexy, cool phantom. But _this_ Alison is solid and warm, undeniably human. Undeniably _real_.

“You must have a million things to ask me,” Ali recognizes, her expression growing more serious.

“Yeah,” Emily acknowledges. “But not right now.”

Alison exhales, looking relieved. “ _Good_. Because I know my mom is going to make you leave soon, and all I want to do is be here with you. Without the questions.”

Emily studies Alison closely, looking for any trace of a lie, any sign of manipulation. Ali’s so good at it that she doesn’t leave a trail, she can spin a story without even trying. But all the same, Emily would swear she’s being genuine.

“I wish you could stay here tonight,” Alison continues. “But my mom…” She trails off, and as if on cue Mrs. D. comes bustling back from the kitchen.

“I think you’d better head home,” she advises Emily. “But thank you for stopping by.” Her eyes narrow slightly. “And I would appreciate if you girls came over one at a time.”

“Okay,” Emily replies. She catches Alison looking sharply at Mrs. D., but Emily gets it. Mrs. D. has just gotten her daughter back. She’s going to do everything in her power to avoid losing her again.

Alison pulls Emily close again, hugging her deeply before Mrs. D. can open the door. Emily pulls back first this time. “You’ll really be here again after tomorrow, right?” she asks, hating how desperate the question comes out.

Alison smiles at Emily. Not a mean girl smirk, or even a teasing grin, but a genuine smile. “I promise,” she says firmly. “I’m not going anywhere.”


	2. December

Of course Emily knew, on a logistical level, that Alison would return to school before too long. But it’s one thing to know that, and it’s quite another to see it in front of her: Ali walking the halls of Rosewood High in a trendy skirt and bright top, a stack of notebooks cradled in her arms. After the life Alison has lead for the past two years, school seems so trivial. So boringly normal. 

When Emily points that out to Hanna, a few days after Ali makes her grand reentrance at school, Hanna gives Emily an “isn’t it obvious?” look. 

“That’s probably _exactly_ why she wants to be back,” Hanna tells her. “She just wants to feel like a teenager again. Not like some crazy, plane-flying super ninja.”

Emily gets that, she does. What she doesn’t get is how unbothered Alison seems by all the weird looks and whispers, which seem to follow her everywhere these days. Emily and her friends have certainly been the subject Rosewood gossip from time to time, but now that Ali’s back it’s like the scrutiny increases tenfold.

Paige is worried, Emily can tell, and one day at the Brew she lets it all out. “What if you kept your distance?” she suggests to Emily. “Just until everything dies down?”

Emily frowns at her. She just finished her shift a little while ago, and Paige has come to meet her for a coffee and homework date. They haven’t had many of those since Alison got back. 

“I can handle being talked about,” Emily replies. “Ali needs friends right now.”

“Yeah, she does,” Paige acknowledges. “But does everything have to fall on you?”

Emily feels a prickle start to go up the back of her neck. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Em,” Paige says softly. “I’m not telling you something you don’t know. Alison relies on all of you, a lot. You especially.”

Emily swallows. Paige isn’t wrong; Ali has been rather…perhaps _needy_ is the right word. A bit clingy, ever since she got back. Asking Emily to walk her home or to class. Wanting to talk on the phone almost daily. Inquiring about sleeping over, though Emily hasn’t told Paige that part. 

In truth, Emily hasn’t really minded any of it. It’s weird, to be sure. But it’s also really nice to have Ali back.

Still, Emily doesn’t like what Paige seems to be implying. “I know you and Ali have had problems in the past, but things are different now.”

“Has she told you that?” Paige asks sharply.

 _Yes,_ Emily thinks. But not in a way Paige would appreciate. Ali’s words ring in her head: _You never stopped caring about me, did you?_ And then, _If I could do it all over again, things would be so different._ They haven’t talked about that night, not yet, or the visits that came before.

_You were always my favorite. Nobody loved me as much as you did._

_You always saw the best version of me. The person I want to be._

Emily still doesn’t know what of that was real.

“Emily,” Paige murmurs, jostling her arm. “Where did you just go?”

Emily shakes her head. “I’m sorry. I was just thinking.”

“You don’t have to be sorry,” Paige tells her. “Just let me in. Please.”

Emily shakes her head again. “It’s nothing,” she insists. “Look, don’t worry about Ali. I have questions about her too.”

“I bet,” Paige replies. “You think someone is dead for two years, and then they just show up out of the blue. It’s weird, that’s all I’m saying. Why would she stay away if she wasn’t in trouble?”

“She was scared,” Emily says, feeling her defenses start to rise again.

Paige nods. “I believe it. But Ali is good at making herself seem like a victim of circumstance. I remember her instigating fights at school, then making it seem like my fault. That happened more than once.”

“This isn’t like that!” Emily maintains, her voice getting a bit louder. “You should have seen her in Spencer’s yard, and at the warehouse. She was terrified!”

Paige’s eyes widen. “What are you talking about?”

Emily’s mouth drops open as she realizes the implication of her statement. “Nothing. Nothing, I misspoke.”

“No, you didn’t,” Paige murmurs. “Did you…” She hesitates, as if piecing this together in the moment. “Did you know that Alison was alive? The whole time?”

“No,” Emily says weakly. “Not the whole time.”

“But some of the time,” Paige realizes. “Before she got back.”

“Paige,” Emily breathes, but she doesn’t quite know what to say.

Paige blinks rapidly. The hurt in her eyes makes Emily feel sick. “You kept this from me.”

“It was complicated,” Emily tries to explain. “It was dangerous for anyone to know. I was trying to protect you. And her.”

“Was that the whole reason?” Paige asks. “Or did you think it would change things, if I knew?”

“What things?” Emily asks pathetically, already knowing what Paige is insinuating.

Paige folds her hands together. She looks to be on the verge of tears. “If you’d known that Alison was alive a year ago, would we even be together?” She says the words like they’ve been on her mind for a while. 

Emily hesitates, thinking carefully. “I don’t know how to answer that,” she admits.

Paige nods, a few tears starting to spill down her cheeks now. “I think you just did,” she says softly. She rises slowly from her chair, and Emily wants to want to beg her to stay. But the words aren’t there. Perhaps that tells her everything she needs to know.

Paige presses a hand gently to Emily’s shoulder. “I’m sorry,” Emily murmurs.

“Goodbye, Em,” Paige replies, and then Emily watches as Paige McCullers walks away from her.

\--

For the first time in her life, Emily doesn’t feel like decorating for Christmas. She supposes it’s understandable; she’s just gone through a breakup, and her mom has been stressed about money. It’s even been hard to find much comfort from her friends. Aria is starting to come back to herself after everything that happened on the ski lift, but she’s been pretty quiet, and Spencer has seemed rather distracted recently. Hanna’s been pulling away—she has been ever since Alison got back—and Emily’s attempts to talk about it haven’t gone over very well. And Ali…

Well, in the aftermath of Emily and Paige’s breakup, Emily finds herself avoiding Alison, full-stop. To the point where she hasn’t told anyone, except her mom, that she and Paige have broken up. She will, of course; she’ll have to. But Paige is out of town with her folks, and for the time being, it just seems easier to keep the news to herself.

Christmas passes without incident, and before Emily knows it, Alison is inviting them over to her house for New Year’s Eve. Emily can’t really think of a good excuse not to go, and Spencer and Aria will at least be there to prevent…whatever it is Emily is afraid might happen.

Emily knows that Alison still has some explaining to do about the last two years, despite the answers Spencer already got out of her. Still, Emily isn’t in the mood for such a conversation on a night like tonight, and if Ali’s cocktail consumption is any indication, she isn’t in the mood, either. 

Emily successfully steers clear of being alone with Alison for most of the night, but a little before midnight Spencer and Aria are both asleep on the couch, and Ali starts giving her that look.

“Come on,” Alison says with a smile. She starts moving toward the stairs, nodding for Emily to follow.

“Where are we going?” Emily asks.

Alison doesn’t respond, merely reaches a hand back behind her to take Emily’s as they climb the stairs. Emily hesitates for half a second before letting her palm relax against Ali’s.

Alison leads them up to her mother’s bedroom and opens the door, not bothering to turn on a light or let go of Emily’s hand as they make their way through the darkened room.

“Ali…” Emily says warningly, because the two of them have gotten into enough trouble for one lifetime.

Alison merely hums in response, heading over to the French doors which open to the porch off Mrs. D.’s room. She finally pulls her hand away from Emily’s and flings the doors wide with a flourish.

“Come on,” Ali urges again. “We might be able to see the fireworks from here.”

“What fireworks?” Emily asks.

Alison shrugs. “I’m sure there are some nearby. The air feels nice, anyway.” She steps out onto the porch and leans against the rail, and Emily follows suit. The porch is small enough that she can cross it in just a couple steps.

Emily gazes down the block. They aren’t very high up, just on the second story, but she likes the perspective up here. The lights of the other houses seem warm, inviting, even. Not strange and foreboding, as they so often do.

Emily takes a few deep breaths. Ali’s right; the air does feel nice. Even though Emily hasn’t had much to drink, her skin was already starting to feel a bit warm, and she enjoys the slight evening chill.

Beside her, Alison shifts, and Emily can feel eyes on her. “What are you thinking about?” Ali asks softly.

Emily sighs. Something about being up here, about it being New Year’s Eve, makes her want to tell the truth. "Paige broke up with me,” she admits, turning to face Ali.

Alison’s eyebrows shoot up. “What?!” She looks furious. “When?”

“Over a week ago,” Emily replies mildly.

“Why didn't you tell me?”

“I…” Emily starts, before cutting herself off. The answer to that question is not a simple one. “I don't know, Ali.”

Alison shakes her head, like she can’t believe this news. ”Well, she's an idiot,” she says with authority.

Emily frowns. “Hey.”

"No, she is,” Ali insists. “Anyone who would let you go is a complete fool.” Her expression changes slightly, like she just realized what she said.

"I don't know about that,” Emily says quietly, pressing her palms flat against the rail and not looking directly at Ali.

"Why did she break up with you?” Alison asks. Her tone has softened a little, but there’s still some upset behind it.

Emily says nothing. She shouldn’t have brought this up. She should have waited until all of them were together, until she could rely on Hanna and Spencer to fill any silences with their own questions. 

“You're not going to tell me?” Ali presses.

“Ali,” Emily breathes. She dares to look up, and maybe Alison gets what she’s trying to communicate, because the last of her anger seems to melt away.

“Oh,” Ali says. She doesn’t speak again for a second, and it seems to last an eternity. “Are you okay?” she finally asks.

"I'm a little sad, but I'm okay,” Emily answers honestly, gazing back down at the houses in front of them. “I didn't treat her that well, most of the time.” It’s the truth, and she feels awful about it. Paige deserves better.

“I don't believe that,” Alison says immediately.

Emily shakes her head. “It's true."

“ _No_ ,” Alison protests. “Emily, you always treated me better than anyone else in the world.” Something in her tone makes Emily look up again, and when she does Ali is fixing her with an unreadable expression.

“Well, maybe that's the problem,” Emily posits. She squares her shoulders. “Because you're _not_ my girlfriend."

Alison pulls her head back, like she can’t quite believe Emily said that. She rolls her lips together, before stating, ”I could be."

Emily’s stomach plummets like she’s on the last big slope of a rollercoaster. “Don’t,” she pleads. What was she expecting, goading Alison like that?

Alison takes a step closer. “No,” she demands. “We should talk about this. It's about to be a new year, and we’re both single and we’re in the same place for the first time in years. Everything is different now.” She sighs, and Emily feels so dizzy. It’s nearly everything she’s longed to hear for years. “Everything would _be_ different. Why shouldn't we try?"

“I can’t,” Emily mutters.

“Why not?”

The casualness of Ali’s tone sends a flare of anger through Emily. “Because I spent years getting over you!” she exclaims. She looks away, running a hand through her hair. “I spent...I spent so many nights lying in bed dreaming that you'd come back to me, that you’d climb through my window and ask me to run away with you. And I would have done it, in a heartbeat.” She pauses, trying to push away the tears that are threatening to fall. “But it wouldn't have been real. I can't...I can't do that to myself again.”

“You don't trust me,” Alison surmises, looking slightly wounded.

“It's not that I don't trust you,” Emily replies. “It's that it always meant more to me than it did to you.”

Alison’s eyes are wide, unblinking. “So are you? Over me?”

“I can't answer that,” Emily says softly.

Alison nods. The old Ali would have lunged at the soft belly Emily exposed with her not-confession. But this Ali looks almost pensive. “You’re wrong, you know,” she tells Emily. “It didn't mean more to you than it did to me."

Emily shakes her head, because those words still aren’t the confirmation she’s spent years searching for. “This isn't a game, Ali."

“I know,” Alison murmurs. “Of course this isn't a game. Maybe I made you feel that way, and for that I'm truly sorry.” She leans back against the rail. “But you loved me, more than I loved myself. And that terrified me, so I could never tell you how I felt."

“How _do_ you feel?” Emily asks, staring at Ali.

“Em…”

“No,” Emily says sharply, before she has a chance to second guess herself. “Cards on the table, right here, right now: how do you feel about me?”

Alison holds her gaze, and for a second Emily thinks she might actually walk away. But then Alison turns to more directly face Emily, and it’s like time slows down and speeds up all at once, because suddenly Alison is kissing her, really kissing her, arms wrapped tightly around Emily’s neck and body pressed flush against Emily’s. Emily is still for half a second before muscle memory takes over and she kisses Alison back deeply, opening her mouth to let Ali’s tongue slip inside, tugging Alison as close as possible as she slides a hand through soft blonde hair.

And then just as quickly as it started, Emily forces herself to push Alison away. Alison looks completely startled, one hand braced against the rail. Her hair is wild and her face is streaked with tears.

“Stop,” Emily says brokenly. “That isn't going to fix anything."

“What do you want?” Alison asks, sounding like she’d genuinely give Emily whatever that is.

"I want you to tell me the truth!” Emily demands, but it comes out a lot less forcefully than she intended. She herself is also clinging to the rail, and the cold air is starting to feel harsher than it did before.

“Didn't that feel like the truth?” Alison asks.

Emily stares at Alison, taking in her heavy breathing and wet eyes. She wants to believe what Alison is telling her. How could the moment they just shared be anything less than genuine? But she’s thought that in the past, and then been burned by her naiveté. 

Before Emily can say anything, she hears an eruption from the street below. A few fireworks go off, and some people open their doors and flood outside with noisemakers, calling, “Happy New Year!”

Emily glances toward Mrs. D.’s room. “We should go back downstairs,” she murmurs, shivering slightly.

Alison inches closer to her, gaze trained on Emily’s face. “Em.”

Emily breathes in shallowly. She feels paralyzed, all of a sudden, unable to move or look anywhere but at Alison. “We’ve been gone for too long already.”

“You want me to do that again,” Ali whispers, nearly touching her now. “I can tell.”

“Are you drunk?” Emily asks, even though she thinks she knows the answer.

“Not even a little bit. Those drinks were totally watered down,” Ali replies. The fireworks in the sky are no match for the desire burning in her eyes.

“Spencer and Aria are right downstairs,” Emily points out breathily.

“So?” Alison asks.

Emily is frozen for two more seconds before instinct takes over. She grabs Alison by the shoulders and spins her around, pinning her against one of the open French doors. Ali gasps, but then it turns into a throaty laugh. 

“So you're going to have to be really quiet,” Emily husks against Alison’s ear, before cupping her face and kissing her with everything she’s got.


	3. January

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here we come to the final chapter! There will be an epilogue posted after I complete the Vandermarin section of this story. Thanks for reading!

“My bedroom,” Alison pants against Emily’s mouth. “C’mon.” Somehow she’s gained the upper-hand again, spinning them back around so that Emily is the one pinned against the door.

“Are we really doing this?” Emily asks shakily, her voice pitching up a few octaves as Alison moves her mouth lower, starts kissing along her neck.

Ali pulls back just slightly, and Emily’s arms immediately lock around her waist, holding her close. “Do you want to stop?” Ali asks, arching an eyebrow.

“I don't think I could, honestly,” Emily admits. The way Alison is looking at her right now—hair a mess, lipgloss smeared down to her chin, eyes half-lidded and promising more—makes Emily feel like her skin is on fire. “Unless you want me to.”

Alison laughs, and the noise reverberates through Emily’s whole body. “Are you kidding?” Ali murmurs. She cups Emily’s face again, kissing her deeply once more before snaking a hand between them and leading them back through Mrs. D.’s room and out into the hallway.

“Okay, then,” Emily says aloud, more to herself than to Ali. She’s vaguely aware that they’ve left the French doors open, that they’re going to have to rearrange the throw pillows on Mrs. D.’s bed since the wind mussed them slightly, but she thinks she would probably collapse if she stopped to focus on that task right now.

“We don't have much time,” Emily points out as Alison kicks her bedroom door closed behind them. “Spencer will come looking for us soon.”

“Spencer isn't thinking about us. She’s thinking about Aria,” Alison proclaims, pressing Emily against the door. Emily could really get used to this becoming their thing. “And besides, we don't _need_ much time.” She puts her lips right against Emily’s ear, and just the feeling of her breath makes Emily shiver. “How long have you thought about doing this?"

“A long time,” Emily whispers, without hesitation.

Ali pulls back, looking pleased. “Me too.”

The words make Emily feel dizzy, again. Or, dizzier than she felt already. “You have?”

“Yeah,” Ali says with a quick nod. “So this won't take too long.” She starts unbuttoning Emily’s flannel, skating her fingers over Emily’s stomach once she reaches skin, then gets to work on undoing her jeans, one-handed. Emily wonders if Ali’s done this before, slept with a girl. She decides that she probably has. She decides that she doesn’t need to know for sure.

“Ali, I—” Emily gasps, tipping her head back as one of Ali’s hands slides higher, beneath the thin fabric of her bralette. This isn’t at all how Emily pictured it. In her mind, they were always on a bed, taking their time, and she was the one doing things to Ali. She was the one in control, kissing her way down Alison’s body, making Ali moan her name.

In reality, everything is so different. Not that Emily is complaining in the slightest about what’s currently happening.

“Ali, are you—” she tries again, not even sure what she wants to ask, but this time Alison cuts her off.

“This will take even less time if you stop talking,” Ali points out, and as if to emphasize her point, she chooses that exact moment to slip a hand into Emily’s underwear.

Emily’s knees start to buckle and she scrambles for the doorknob to try and keep herself upright. “I… _oh god_ …I don’t think I can—”

“It’s okay,” Alison replies, so gently that Emily almost has to strain to hear. “I’ve got you.” She presses a featherlight kiss to the side of Emily’s mouth, while simultaneously bracing her free arm against Emily’s side. “I won’t let you go."

\--

“You’re totally staring at Ali,” Hanna announces, unceremoniously plunking her tray of food down on the table beside Emily’s. 

Emily clears her throat, looking away from where Alison is talking to Mrs. Montgomery on the other side of the courtyard. “What? No, I’m not,” she insists, though it doesn’t sound convincing even to her own ears. 

It’s been nine days New Year’s, which means it’s been nine days since she and Alison had sex. (Or, more accurately, since Ali fucked her. Emily won’t let herself think the phrase “made love,” even if it had sort of felt that way toward the end.) Nine days Emily has spent thinking about what it would feel like to touch Ali the same way that Ali touched her. Nine days spent wondering what they mean to one another now. She’s told the rest of her friends about her breakup with Paige, but she hasn’t told them anything else.

Mostly because she herself isn’t entirely sure what happened.

“You’ve been acting weird,” Hanna continues, and Emily scowls, because Hanna is really one to talk these days.

“I think we’ve all been acting a little weird, lately,” Emily remarks, a bit pointedly.

Hanna looks down at her food, shoving her plastic fork through a lump of brown meat. “Yeah, maybe.”

Emily puts her hand over Hanna’s, trying to shake off the Ali weirdness, at least for a moment. She and Hanna have been needing to talk for a while. “What’s up?”

Hanna shrugs, still looking down. “It _has_ been weird, since Ali got back. I’ve been figuring some things out. Or at least trying to.”

“What kinds of things?”

Hanna drops her fork, finally looking up at Emily. “What was it like to come out?”

Emily’s eyes widen. That was not at all what she was expecting. “Where is this coming from?”

“I just never really asked you,” Hanna replies, trying to sound more casual than Emily knows she feels. Hanna sighs, as though the thought she’s trying to piece together is just out of reach. “I mean, what was it like to stop being one thing and then just become something else?”

“I wasn’t becoming something else,” Emily says carefully. “I was becoming who I really am.”

“You always knew?”

“I couldn’t admit it,” Emily tells her.

“But you knew?” Hanna asks again. Emily isn’t sure what response she’s looking for.

“Yeah. I knew.”

Hanna stares back down at her food, as though that answer doesn’t entirely please her. “Not me. I never knew what the hell I was.”

“Han,” Emily murmurs. “Is this just about Ali?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, you changed your hair. You changed your clothes.” She nods toward Hanna’s outfit, which is definitely grungier than her usual style. “Now you’re asking me about coming out. I get that you’re weirded out about Ali being back. But…”

She trails off, and Hanna looks at her sharply. “But what?”

Emily bites her lip. “After I came out, I thought I should cut my hair. I didn’t _want_ to cut my hair, but I thought, hey, if I’m gay, I should make it clear to everyone. I think sometimes when you realize a new thing about yourself, it can be hard to know how to express it.”

Hanna’s eyes start to look a little wet and panicky. “Are you saying you think I’m gay?”

Emily shakes her head. “No. I’m saying that you don’t need to change who you are, for anyone. You can just be yourself.” She squeezes Hanna’s hand. “Y’know, someone once told me a very wise thing, which I’ll repeat to you: you’re not signing a contract. We love Hanna. No one cares who you’re with.”

Hanna tries to surreptitiously wipe a finger under one eye. “You remember that?”

“Of course I do,” Emily confirms. “It was everything I needed to hear.” She smiles slightly. “We all just want you to be happy. Whether it’s by yourself or with another person, it doesn’t matter.”

“I want you to be happy, too,” Hanna tells her. She deliberately tilts her head toward Ali, still talking to Mrs. Montgomery, before looking back at Emily and raising an eyebrow. “There’s something going on with you two, I know it.”

“Between me and Mrs. Montgomery?” Emily replies weakly.

“ _Em_.”

Emily ducks her head. “I’m not sure what, exactly.”

“Do you love her?”

“I think so,” Emily says quietly. “The problem is, I’m not sure if _she_ loves _me_.”

Hanna shrugs. “There’s only one way to find out.”

Emily hesitates, before admitting, “We slept together." 

Hanna grips her hand tighter, mouth agape. “What?! You did?!”

Emily nods, a bit sheepish. “Yeah. And it was…” She shakes her head, not sure if she could put words to it. “But we haven’t talked about it, and I keep avoiding her.”

“Because you don’t want to get hurt,” Hanna says sagely.

“Maybe it was supposed to just be one night,” Emily muses. That’s what she’s been trying to tell herself these past nine days. “Maybe it’s better that way.”

Hanna scoffs. “That’s bullshit, and you know it.”

Emily straightens up, slightly taken aback. “Excuse me?”

“You don’t want one night with Ali,” Hanna states matter-of-factly. “You want something real with her. She came back from the dead. Not for one night. For a lifetime.”

“She didn’t come back for _me_ ,” Emily murmurs.

“No, she didn’t,” Hanna agrees. “But she _is_ back, and she should make the most of it. And so should you.” She looks at Emily warmly. “It’s always been Ali for you, hasn’t it?”

Emily doesn’t have to think too hard about that one. She loved Maya and Paige, deeply, but Alison was always there, in the back of her mind. Emily thought the dreams would fade in time, but they never did.

“Yeah,” Emily says softly. “It’s always been Ali.” 

\--

After her conversation with Hanna, Emily decides that she can’t avoid Alison forever, and she doesn’t really want to. So the next day after school, she texts Ali and asks her to come over.

“Thank god,” Ali says with a grin when Emily opens the door. “I was beginning to think you were a one night stand kind of girl.”

Emily can’t help the blush that creeps up her cheeks. “I’m sorry for avoiding you,” she says, ushering Alison inside.

“Is your mom home?” Ali asks in reply, and when Emily shakes her head Ali seems to relax, heading for the couch.

Emily offers a beverage but Alison declines, so Emily sits down beside her. Ali studies her for a long moment before speaking again. “I was giving you space,” she tells Emily, her expression growing more serious. “I thought—I thought maybe you regretted what happened.”

“I didn’t,” Emily says, immediately. “No matter what happens next, I could never regret it.”

Ali’s eyes flicker with warmth. “Okay. Good. For the record, I don’t regret it either.” She smooths her hands over her skirt. “I spoke to my mom about Bethany Young.”

Emily frowns, because that might have been the last name she expected to hear today. “Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Alison says. “She didn’t want to tell me anything, at first, but I wore her down.”

“You’ve always been good at that.”

Ali nods, pleased. “I needed to know why Bethany was dressed like me. And eventually my mom explained that she knew Bethany’s father. Not just knew him. She had an affair with him.”

Emily tries to feign some polite surprise, but the news is not exactly shocking. It’s no secret that Mrs. D. was less than faithful to her husband.

“Anyway,” Ali continues. “Bethany found out about it. She saw them together at Radley, since my mom was on the Board there, and she threatened to make a big stink about it. So my mom offered to do nice things for her. Take her horseback riding. Buy her nice clothes.”

Alison tilts her head to one side, as if considering how all of this happened. “I think at first, my mom just wanted Bethany to keep quiet. But then…” She shakes her head. “I wasn't a very good daughter to her, back then, and Jason was too high to care about being a good son. I think that maybe my mom thought Bethany could be like another child for her.”

“They were close?” Emily murmurs.

“My mom wanted them to be,” Alison tells her. “But Bethany was apparently a very hard nut to crack. She didn’t tell anyone about the affair, in the long run, but they never got close the way my mom thought they could have. When the police found out it was Bethany in the yard, my mom wasn't surprised, but she didn't want to push the investigation. She just wanted the whole thing to be over with.” Ali has an odd, almost reflective expression on her face. Like there’s more she wants to say.

“Why are you telling me this now?” Emily asks.

Alison takes a deep breath, looking at Emily squarely. “My mom was trying to buy love. She’s done that her entire life. And…and so have I.” Ali chuckles mirthlessly. “I learned it from the best. I always felt like love was kind of a transaction. That you weren’t strong if you actually let someone else in. Until you.”

“Ali…” Emily breathes, feeling her heart start to beat a little faster. It’s undeniably strange, jumping from the topic of a dead girl to the topic of romance. And yet Ali wouldn't be Ali if she did things the usual way. 

“You asked me for the truth the other night,” Ali says softly. “And I acted like by kissing you, I was giving you that. But I wasn’t.”

“I love you,” Emily interjects, unable to hold the words back any longer.

Alison hangs her head for half a second, and when she looks back at Emily, there are tears in her eyes. “Dammit, Em. I was going to say it first.”

Emily barks out a soggy laugh at that. She reaches for Ali’s hands, holding them tightly. “I’m sorry. Go ahead.”

Alison rolls her eyes, scooting closer to Emily on the couch. “I love you. I’m in love with you,” she says definitely, voice both soft and firm. “I should have said that a long time ago. I hope you know it’s the truth.”

"I do," Emily promises. She kisses Ali, then, and it isn’t like any of the kisses they’ve shared before. This one is right. Emily feels it all the way to her bones. 

And more importantly, it’s real.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> BTW, portions of Hanna and Emily's dialogue are taken from their conversation in the car in 5x03.


End file.
